


Snapshots

by literallymelchior



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-09 19:10:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallymelchior/pseuds/literallymelchior
Summary: The thoughts of children who are broken, angry, and full of hope.





	1. The Thoughts of Moritz

_I have always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift by. I have always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remains like a veil over my skin, grey and cold. And as I watch the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there is only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy. It sits like November rain on my skin, enough to chill what was once warm inside. At any other time I would have called a friend, asked for the warmth I needed to ward it off, just a little is enough. No longer. Now I just let it come, drop by drop and I feel like it is an ocean falling upon me instead of rain - that the grief of years I carefully suspended has all condensed right above my head into a cloud large enough to block the sun. They say it can't rain forever, that there will come a time when it must cease, that the last drop will have fallen. Thing is, I just don't care. I will still be true to myself, still help others, but I plan to just stay here in the cold, comfortably numb._

_I stood on the brink of something I couldn't describe. The weight of everything seemed to press down on my shoulders and I struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, I kept moving. But every step cost me. The darkness grew darker; the pain grew sharper; all of it seemed to only grow in strength and I began to wonder if things could ever get better. But I never said a word. Sometimes I wonder if that smile— the horribly fake smile— is ever seen through. If someone ever notices that sad, broken look in my eyes that I see in the mirror. If they see beauty where I see ugliness. And then I laugh, a bitter, sarcastic laugh, at myself. Nobody cares. No one notices. They never seem to, do they?_

_I know everything about my darkness, yet I know nothing about why it haunts me,  nothing about why it sometimes settles for days and other times appears for a fleeting hour. There is only one way I can explain it. You know when something bad has happened, and the next day when you wake up in the morning, for those first 3 seconds your mind is deliciously blank, you remember nothing and nobody? Then it hits, your heart drops, your stomach sinks and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping it was all a bad dream? When the darkness comes, that is what I feel like, every moment of everyday, until it passes. My body feels hollow and full of sadness all at once, I can't remember ever being happy. I don't know what I'm sad about, but it's bone crushing sadness, the kind that makes you clench every muscle in your body to try and squeeze it out. The kind of sadness that makes you unable to think about the future. The kind of sadness that makes you feel like you're alone, even when you're surrounded by friends or family._

_I've fought for years. I just march on, waiting for something to take me away again._


	2. The Thoughts of Melchior

_When the guilt comes it takes me down the old familiar path. I want to refuse to walk it, pretend that I am the person I demand that I be. I want to see myself in sepia tones, not perfect color. I want to scrub my head, but if I did I'd never learn from what happened. And it's true what they say, “Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” And I couldn't bare that. So I keep my eyes on the horizon and my mind tuned to creating a positive future; because really, isn't that what everyone needs?_

_I see Wendla in my nightmares. Her face goes from bright and young to suddenly, in just one moment, gaunt and terrifying. I try to run but she comes to me again and again, taunting and mocking me. Then there is Moritz. I couldn’t protect him. I didn’t see the signs that could’ve saved him, but I was blind to my own desires. I am a disgrace, a failure, because i put myself before the ones I loved. But now their gone, and I don’t want to go on._

_I tried to forget. Leave the past behind. But I couldn't do it when I saw her from the distance, melting with the crowd, seven years after we last saw each other. I almost didn't recognize her, with a new hair colour and a happy smile she never wore with me on the last times we were together. But when our gazes intertwined like they used to, the waves of regret hit me like a rock eroded by the sea._

_There are times my brain fries up. It's no excuse I know; I own my behaviour. I try to help, try to be good, and then a trigger is flicked. My emotions turn - cold, fearful, anxious... I back away, flee or strike out at someone who loves me. In these moments I am least proud of who I am, for I fail to be the warrior I was born to be, the strong woman with the softness of a mother. Instead I show the frightened child within, damaged and afraid. I know these are things for me to work on, not for others to mitigate, I am an adult after all. Yet I ask for consideration, that my fear triggers are left alone until my body stops living in a state of flight or fight, until I find a way back to being calm and steady. I have been stable many years, caring for others, pouring out love without measure, yet never knowing how to ask for it. It is the only medicine that can heal this fractured soul. So like a stupid child I hold out for love, wide eyes and shaking limbs, still looking for that dark place all over again, but praying for the light._

_So I hold on, for Wendla and for Moritz._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! so this is my chapter for melchior. in no way this is canon, it’s just the way i think of melchior after the events of Spring Awakening! hope you enjoy!


	3. The Thoughts of Wendla

_Although I have seen and been through so much more than I should, I still feel hope. Even though the dawn is still some time away, there is a light in my heart that was missing just yesterday. Right now it is a spark of hope, a ray of sunshine yet to be born, but it is there and I feel it. Perhaps that is optimism, the anticipation of good things to come. It is a feeling I haven't had in so long that if feels as foreign as it is welcome. Hope beads my skin like dew on spring grass. I feel it radiating in to soothe my blood. If forms such perfect spheres, each one like a tiny world of its own. I can't know for sure that today will be better than yesterday, or if this is time we win, but I'm optimistic and that's the best I can say._

_Hope is a bright star in a hopelessly dark universe. Through light years of distance, the brightness fills our inner selves. Hope makes us smile on the inside as well as on the outside. Hope is not just an emotion, it is a promise that smiling and laughter are just around the corner. When the fighter has been laid on the canvas by a well placed right to the jaw, hope is there saying, "Get up. Take a nine count if you must, but be ready to stand, and have the ref dust off your gloves. You're going to win this match." Hope is drawn to the person who sees beyond the present defeat, beyond the moment of being cast down, beyond the loss of the job, and beyond the negative words of hopeless voices. There is that voice from the "bright star" telling us to look beyond the darkness - to the bright light of hope._

_Hope. That's what keeps you alive, gives you strength and helps you to fight through every day. But what do you hope for? A better tomorrow? What do you do when you realize that you'll never get that? Do you give up?_

_I wish I could just give up; but then my dreams, my hopes, tell me not to. They help me to wake up every day. Maybe that's what hope is - a distant star shining in the darkest sky. Not enough to remove the darkness, but enough to make you believe there's thousand more stars somewhere and all you have to do is find that 'somewhere.' So you keep fighting, ignoring the darkness that tries to stop you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi ! so i kinda felt like Wendla was constantly had hope even though she went through so much ! enjoy!
> 
> in no way is this canon, this is just my interpretation of the characters of spring awakening. feel free to message me on tumblr (literallymelchior) or just comment on this if you have any concerns because of my writing!


	4. The Thoughts of Ilse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya! i kinda thought that Ilse was the type of person who writes poetry to let out feelings, so i hope you enjoy! 
> 
> in no way is this canon, this is just my interpretation of these characters and their thoughts throughout the story of spring awakening.

_I have been tossed to the air as if I were a bird._   
_Crushed with the simplicity of a word,_   
_I have been thrown into the ocean and told to swim._   
_I have been hit with invisible forces stronger than wind._   
_I have been put in the night sky and told to shine,_   
_I have been put in water meant to refine._   
_But I will never give up_   
_Through every let down and pushup_   
_I will not back down_   
_Through every word, stab, and frown_   
_Because I have been made strong_   
_Strong enough to right every wrong_   
_Because I have been through fire_   
_And told to respire_   
_I have been placed in the sky_   
_And told to fly_   
_But I will never give up._

_It wasn't that I didn't like people. I just didn't like love. Any association with the emotion had been a bad one, and my body just learned to reject it, like a foreign substance. The way my father had lifted his fist against my mother made me really wonder - why do humans fall in love if this is the consequence? The way my mother just watched as my father’s white knuckles gripped my throat or his snickering laugher as he kicked away at me. It was just wrong._

_But I waited. I bided my time until I could slip away. A part of me was so scared that they would just forget about me. But I hoped that my father would never forget the horrified look on my face and regret all the miserable things he ever did to me._

_You can turn off all the lights and still there is a flame in my soul, always burning for love, always ready to start a new blaze. That's why I feel optimistic. I can close my eyes and feel the positivity flow, recharging my neurons until they rekindle and spark. So call me "baby," call me "angel" or call me "everlasting fire"; my hope will never be extinguished before my earthly time is done._


	5. The Thoughts of Ernst

_Happiness is an absence of all negative emotions, my love, and the presence of any positive one; that's why joy comes in so many wonderful flavors. It's also the reason that our commercial world is so miserable and empty; we are all intelligent enough to comprehend that whilst the lure looks like happiness, it is really a terrible imposter fashioned from greed, fear, vanity, sloth and selfishness. It's like at the end of the wizard of oz, when they peek behind the curtain to see a selfish little man peddling a creaking machine, what's seen can't be unseen._

_Anything done for pure and positive motivation will fill you with happiness and begin healing, painful though that process can be. It's like waking from a nightmare to find you are really covered in bruises and cut by knives. Yet from this emptying of the negative, listening to the yearning of your own soul to love and nurture, serenity comes, joy comes, laughter comes. Other times I bust with life in the joy of movement. I love to dance to vibrant music, loud and strong. I feel my limbs move with the beat, my mind enjoying the heady ride. There is something about cycling in the countryside, with or without music, in any weather, that invigorates me. There is part of this human animal that was born to move. To exert myself feels like freedom, there is pleasure in pushing myself to new levels. Yet to ride slow can be a chance to savour to the flow of the air the finer details of the trees, earth and birds. This is not the mantra to find the good in everything, not quite, for there are times of tragedy, but to enjoy what is good and to learn from the rest._

_Pain is a chance to become more empathic, more sensitive to others in pain. Problems are an opportunity to innovate. In isolation we can think and let the creative mind spin new ideas. In unfulfilled expectations we can learn patience and understanding. In grief we can learn to cherish the gift of life each day. We can use our pain and fear to mature the mind and develop the soul. For how can the soul dance if it is hiding in the shadows? Thus, only the brave of heart can know true happiness. So, be bold, my love. Meet life as an equal._

__  
Love, always and forever,  
Ernst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO!! i love ernst robel with all my heart!! i hope you enjoy!!

**Author's Note:**

> yo yo yo! so i thought this was really cool to do, so this is a little side project i’m doing! it’s not very long, but i hope you enjoy! these are the thoughts of moritz during spring awakening. this isn’t canon, so don’t take it seriously—i’m so sorry if i offend you with harsh or touchy topics.


End file.
